Boarding School
by 2queens1prince
Summary: Henry and Elizabeth meet much earlier in life, but will they hit it off right away?
1. Chapter 1

AN: This is, yet again, another origin story. In this story, they meet much earlier than we usually think. I hope you enjoy. This story is completed and I'll post a new chapter every Wednesday. Please leave a review and let me know what you think. I'd love to know.

October 1980

The chalk scraped against the blackboard at a fast pace. Henry McCord sat in the third row of his Trigonometry class furiously trying to keep up with the teacher. Math was the subject he struggled in the most and he was determined not to get behind.

There was a sharp rap at the door and 18 heads whipped up and stared through the glass to see who dared interrupt Dr. James's math class. The man's lips curled into a scowl, but it quickly faded away as he saw Headmaster Norton peek through at him. James strode across the floor and opened the door. The two men spoke in hushed tones as the students pretended not to pay attention.

Dr. James dropped his head for the briefest of moments before looking over the classroom. "Mr. McCord, Headmaster Norton needs to speak with you." Terror ripped through the young man as he stood. Had he done something wrong? His grades were good, but maybe his scholarship had been pulled for some other reason. He knew that his parents were paying what they could to send him to boarding school to start with. If he lost his scholarship, he wouldn't be allowed to stay. Henry moved to take a step and Dr. James spoke once again. "Henry, go ahead and take your things." Henry felt a boulder form in the pit of his stomach and he couldn't swallow past the lump in his throat. This couldn't be good.

Four hours later, Henry was on a bus headed back to his family home in Pittsburgh. His mother had died-brain aneurysm. Henry was beside himself, although he showed no outward emotion. Pamela McCord was a wonderful mother. She was Henry's best friend and his staunch advocate. Henry wondered how he would survive this loss.

Henry's father, Patrick, was a man of little fanfare and less emotion. He didn't want a big wake or even a meal after the funeral. It was over in short order. Henry sat in the front pew of St. Michael's with his father on one side and his sister, Maureen, next to him. Henry's other siblings, Erin and Shane sat further down the pew. Henry tried to focus on the priest, who was most likely saying lovely things about his mother, but he couldn't. He could only stare at the casket with the white cloth draped over it. The silver crucifix carefully centered in the middle, directly over when his mother's heart would be. She was a woman of strong faith, and she fought to instill that in her children.

Pamela helped Henry lean on his faith when his friend, Tommy, had died in a skating accident years before. Now, Henry wished more than anything, she could guide him through this. He felt woefully unprepared. She was only 43. She wasn't supposed to die yet. She had so much life to live. Henry let out a ragged breath and suddenly felt his father's eyes boring into the side of his head. "Real men don't cry," were the words Henry could feel his father communicating through that stare. He swallowed back his tears and pushed his mind to go some other place where the hurt wasn't so deep.

Two days later, Henry sat his suitcase down in the living room and observed his father. Patrick sat rigidly in a wingback chair, the morning newspaper open in front of him. "What do you think you're doing?"

Patrick's terse tone surprised Henry. "I was wondering if you could take me to the bus station. I can't just be missing a bunch of days of school. I'll never get caught up."

"You're not going back. That fancy boarding school was your mother's idea and she's not here, so you're going to the local high school." Patrick's piercing eyes studied Henry over the top of the paper.

"But Dad, I have a scholarship. It pays for a lot of the cost. Mom said it was doable." Henry's heart raced. He never wanted to go to the local high school. He didn't feel like he could ever thrive there. Pamela had understood that. She understood Henry's point of view and wanted to help him be successful.

"It _was_ doable. Now your mother is dead, so she's obviously not working to send you to that fancy boarding school. I won't take away from the others just so you can have more." Patrick dipped his head down, turning his attention back to the paper.

"I will figure out how to pay for it myself. Would you at least be willing to give me enough for a bus ticket?" Henry struggled to keep his voice even. He had some cash back in his room at school, but he hadn't been thinking that this would happen. He hadn't really been thinking at all. "Even if that doesn't work out, I still need to get my things." Patrick raised the paper higher, completely covering his face and Henry knew the discussion was over. Quietly, he retreated to the kitchen and tried to figure out what to do.

Only a few moments passed, and Henry found himself with his head buried in his hands. He desperately tried not to break down, but the sorrow of his mother dying, along with his dreams, weighed heavily on him. A small hand stroked his arm, and he quickly covered it and tried to put himself back together. His little sister didn't need to see him fall apart. Looking up, he saw his own sad, brown eyes staring back at him. She was so much like him.

"Hey Erin, how are you doing?" He scooted his chair back and pulled her into his lap.

"I overheard. Dad said you couldn't go back to school," she said sadly. Henry gave her a slight nod, fearing that he wouldn't be able to contain his own emotions if he attempted to speak.. "How would you pay for it?" she whispered.

"I don't know. Maybe see if I can work at the school in exchange for the money I owe, or see if they would let me walk into town and get a job there. I really don't know." Henry wasn't sure what he thought would happen, but the thought of just giving it up was more than he could take. He knew the sacrifice his mother had made, and if he didn't go back, it would be like all that extra work would be wasted.

"How much does it cost to ride the bus?" she asked. "You should get to go. I have birthday money." With that she slipped a wad of cash into Henry's hand. "I can't think of anything I'd like more than for you to be happy."

Henry looked at the money, close to $50, he guessed. He could no longer keep the tears contained. He swept his sister into a tight hug and whispered. "You are the best 11 year old sister a guy could ever have. You know I love you, right?"

"You should. I'm pretty nice," she giggled as Henry tickled her side.

"I have some money back at school. I'll mail it back to you. This is just a loan," Henry said seriously.

"Give it to the school instead so they know you mean business, okay?" Erin gave him a watery grin. "I miss you lots when you're gone. Just promise you'll come back to see me."

"Of course." Erin pulled away and peeked around the corner into the living room. She disappeared and was back a few seconds later carrying Henry's suitcase.

"Go out the back door. I'll keep Dad occupied until I think you're already on the bus."

"Tell Shane and Maureen goodbye for me. I'll miss you." He gave Erin one last hug and walked out the back door, headed for the bus station. He prayed that he could make it all work out.

Fourteen hours later, Henry sat outside Headmaster Norton's office. "He can see you now Henry," Mrs. Albert, the secretary paused, "And Henry, I'm sorry to hear about your mother. She was a very kind lady."

Henry was suddenly struck, not expecting to have to deal with those kinds of statements at school. He choked back his tears and said, "Thank you, ma'am." Rising, he moved toward the Headmaster's door.

"Henry. I'm surprised to see you. I spoke with your father a few days ago and he said you wouldn't be returning." The tall, slender man gestured to Henry to have a seat, and Henry moved quickly to do so. "What can I do for you?"

"Headmaster Norton, I want more than anything to be able to stay here at Virginia Preparatory Academy. I am aware that my scholarship doesn't cover all of my expenses. I want to see if I can make an arrangement to pay the difference myself." Henry watched the man draw in a deep breath and immediately felt insecure. "Sir, I know that this is a huge request, but I can do lots of different things around campus, but if given permission to leave campus, I can work in town and make money quicker." Henry knew his expression gave him away, but he could no longer control it. "I need this sir, and I will do whatever I have to. I just want to stay."

The older man sighed. "Henry, I don't know that it's feasible for you to try and do this. You'd need to work several hours a week to make up the difference and if your grades suffer and you lose your scholarship, then you'll still be in the same boat." Even as he spoke, he studied Henry and knew the young man was determined. "If we allowed you to do this and your balance was such that you couldn't pay it off before graduation, would you be willing to stay in the area and continue to work until the balance is taken care of?"

"Sir, I was serious when I said I would do whatever I had to. If that means graduating and attending the University of Virginia so I could stay in town and continue to pay off my debt, I would do it. I just," he stuttered a bit as his emotions got the better of him. "I just want to make her proud, sir."

Headmaster Norton lounged back in his chair. There was no way he could say no to that, and besides, he liked Henry. He was a good kid and he had no doubt that Henry would make good on his promise. "I do need to clear it with your father, and given my discussion with him the other day, I question whether or not he knows you are here."

"I'm sure he knows by now. My sister said she would detain him until she knew I was on the bus." The older man smirked at the determination of Henry and guessed that it was a trait that ran in all of the McCord siblings.

"Well then, I will speak with him and let you know, but for right now, we have a deal."

Henry enthusiastically shook the man's hand and headed out of the office. For the first time in several days, Henry McCord smiled.


	2. Chapter 2

AN: Thank you to everyone who took the time to leave a review or commented to me personally. I appreciate it very much. Please share your thoughts on this chapter.

Chapter 2

April 1983

Henry stepped off the city bus just a block down from Virginia Prep. He was closing in on the end of his freshman year at the University of Virginia. Begrudgingly, Patrick McCord had given his blessing to allow Henry stay at the school and work off his own debt. Henry wasn't sure what exactly Headmaster Norton did to make that happen, but he was eternally grateful. Then, when Henry's classes were difficult during his senior year, he was allowed to cut back on his hours a bit. Now, he worked roughly ten hours per week at his old high school and still had probably another few months to go before his debt was paid in full. He didn't mind coming back. The work was enjoyable, he got to work outside, and the grounds were beautiful. It was satisfying to know that he was part of making that happen.

He was on his knees, planting annuals around the fountain that served as the centerpiece of the main drive. It was a Monday afternoon, sunny and warmer than it had been for days. The last frost seemed to be behind them. Spring was in the air.

It struck him as odd when a silver Mercedes pulled in and parked at the top of the drive, near where Henry was working. A distinguished lady, likely in her early fifties, climbed from the driver's seat and rounded the back of the car, lifting the trunk. She was joined by a young boy. The kid was tall and slender, with almost white-blond hair and wore an impish grin.

"Are you all set Will?" the woman asked. He nodded and leaned in, giving her the perfunctory hug.

"I've got everything I need. I can take care of things myself." And with that, he turned and disappeared into the administration building.

Henry heard the woman audibly sigh and pull a second suitcase from the trunk and set it next to the back of the car. She approached the passenger side and opened the door. Henry wondered what was going on when a girl finally emerged, a dark jacket wrapped tightly around her small frame. "I don't want to be here," she stated flatly.

"We've talked about this," the woman started.

"No, you talked about it and I said I didn't want to do this." The girl's voice cracked and Henry could tell she was about to cry.

"Lizzie," the woman moved to her side and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "I know you don't want to go to boarding school, but really there aren't any other options. You're only 15. You know you and your brother can't just be left on your own while I'm away for work." She looked down at the girl. "It won't be so bad if you give it a chance."

"So you keep telling me. Do you think you could come in with me? I mean I know everything is set up and taken care of…" she trailed off.

"I suppose I could," the woman sighed and it was obvious that she didn't want to. "But, I have to drive all the way back."

The girl shrugged. "Nevermind. It's fine. I can do it myself."

The woman brightened up. "Chin up Lizzie. It will be okay. Love you." She pulled the girl in for a quick hug. "I'll be back to get you at the end of term." The older woman rounded the car, got in, and quickly pulled away, leaving the girl standing on the step, looking forlorn.

Henry felt like he'd witnessed something very private, although he didn't know where he could've gone to escape it. The whole scene had played out in just a matter of minutes. Now, the girl stood silently and watched as the car drove down the lane and turned out into the street. Unaware of Henry's presence, she picked up her suitcase and walked into the building.

The following week, Henry was headed to the side garden with hedge clippers in hand. His intention was to trim back some of the more mature hedges. He rounded the corner and stopped short. The girl from the previous week sat with her legs criss-crossed on the bench at the end of the garden softly crying. Henry wasn't sure what to do. Should he approach her? Should he tell someone? Should he just walk away? He took a step backward in retreat, but then he just couldn't leave her.

He approached quietly. When he got close, he spoke softly. "Are you okay?"

She didn't look up, but replied, "Yeah, I'm swell."

Henry let out a hoarse bark. "Glad to see your sarcasm is in tact." That made her look up, and the vacant look in her eyes made his heart hurt, but he forged on. "It's only been a week. Things will get better."

"How did you know I've only been here a week?" she asked.

"I was here when you arrived. It's hard at first, but it gets better," he said softly, sitting down on the opposite end of the bench.

"Do you do this?" she asked, gesturing to the garden.

"Yeah, a lot of it, at least for a little while longer. I plant my mom's favorite flowers. It's my little way of saying thank you to her for all she did for me." Henry plucked a yellow and purple pansy from a small clump of flowers near the bench. "These were her favorites." He ran his fingers over the delicate petals.

"Were?" she asked.

"My mom passed away about two and a half years ago." Henry looked at the ground. He'd hoped to make her feel better, not bring her down.

"Does it ever hurt less? I mean-losing your mom?"

"Somehow yes. It still hurts and sometimes it's all I can focus on. It was terrible at first, but then those times got fewer and fewer, then one day I looked back and realized it had been a whole day or even a couple days, and then a week." Henry remained quiet for a few minutes, hoping she would share. When she didn't, he asked. "Did your mom die? Is that why you had to come here?"

"They both died." Suddenly, she jumped up from the bench. "I should go. I've wasted enough of your time." He could tell she was hurting,

"Hey," he called out. She stopped, but didn't turn around. "Did your mom like flowers?"

"She liked violets," the girl murmured as she walked around the corner.

It was nearly the end of the term before he saw her again, this time sitting on the front steps looking down the drive. "Waiting for someone or plotting your escape?" Henry asked as he approached.

"More like wishing someone would come so I could escape." Her voice turned hard. "She said she'd come to get me, but now she says I have to stay for the summer term. I should've known she would just dump us here. Of course Will already has plans. He's headed somewhere in Florida with a friend and then doing a stint with someone else in Chicago. No one asked what I was doing." She took a breath and for the first time she looked up. "I'm sorry for spilling my guts. It's not like you care."

"I care, but admittedly, there isn't much I can do about it." Henry took a chance on starting something. "Can I ask what your name is?"

"People call me Lizzie." She spoke with a terseness that he knew was some sort of defense mechanism. He knew her anger wasn't really directed at him.

"What do you want to be called?" he asked. Her head popped up, and she grimaced.

"Nobody asks me what I want anymore." She returned her gaze to the road leading up to the school.

"I just did," Henry said. "I will call you whatever you wish. Lizzie? Is that short for Elizabeth?"

She nodded. "Lizzie just carries a lot of hurt with it." For the first time, Elizabeth really looked at the young man who'd been the only person to really try to talk to her since she arrived. "I think Elizabeth would be okay. What should I call you?"

He extended his hand. "It's nice to meet you Elizabeth. My name's Henry."

"Likewise." She smiled and it almost made its way to her eyes. Elizabeth was certainly a pretty girl, and suddenly his desire to make her happy became apparent. He was almost embarrassed at his need to bring her happiness.

Henry let go of her hand and weighed his options. What he'd done was either a really good thing or a really bad thing and he didn't know which side of the coin it would end up on, but while he had her in a somewhat willing mood, he decided to take the chance.

"Would you come with me? I'd like to show you something." He could tell she was hesitant. "I did something. I think this might be a good place for you to go and get away." Although she looked a little apprehensive, Elizabeth stood and followed him.

Henry led her across the lawn to a group of tall hedges that seemed to block an area off. An opening had neatly been cut back between two and he walked through. When Elizabeth stepped through, she gasped.

There was a quaint looking stone bench at the far end. Paving stones created an Alice in Wonderland type walkway from the entrance to the bench. The whole space was only about six feet wide and maybe eight feet long. Besides the grass that grew immediately around the pavers, the entire spanse was covered in violets in various shades of blues, purples, and pinks.

Elizabeth wandered down the path and bent down gently touching a few of the soft, velvety petals. "Henry, this is gorgeous." Her voice shuddered and her hand covered her mouth, stifling a sob. "You did this for me?" she choked out.

"I thought you might enjoy some place that was peaceful. No one comes out here much. It's quiet and you can think." Henry shrugged.

Elizabeth stood and turned toward Henry, tears still streaming down her face. "It's beautiful and it is peaceful here. Thank you." Henry stepped away, thinking she might want to be left alone, but before he made it far, she was at his side. They walked back together in silence.

Stopping in front of her dormitory, she spoke. "No one's done anything so thoughtful since that day. They offered to take me for ice cream, because it was my favorite treat." Her eyes clouded again, and she blinked back the tears. "Anyway, thank you." Elizabeth quickly walked inside, letting the door fall heavily behind her.


	3. Chapter 3

AN: Thank you for joining me for this story. I hope you enjoy this next installment. Please let me know what you think.

Chapter 3

August 1983

Elizabeth had been away from Virginia Prep for almost six weeks, and surprisingly enough, she was excited to return. As soon as her aunt pulled away, she left her suitcase on the steps and took off across the wide expanse of lawn, straight to the row of hedges. Peeking her head inside, her smile evaporated when she realized that her beloved violet garden had withered in the late summer heat of August.

She moved down the narrow stone path and went to sit on the bench. She stopped and picked up a rock that was sitting there. A slightly weathered envelope was beneath it. Her name was penned in small block letters. She lifted the flap and pulled the note from it. Elizabeth found herself smiling when she saw who it was from. Even though they had only had a couple of encounters, Elizabeth was looking forward to seeing Henry, but as she read his note, she felt sadness drape over her like a heavy blanket.

_Elizabeth,_

_I tried to tend your garden in your absence, but I'm afraid the heat had its way with the flowers._

_I hope that this school year is better for you. Unfortunately, you won't be seeing me around much. This summer I finished paying my debt to the school and am no longer bound to work. I'm still at UVA. I'll try to drop by occasionally and check in. I'll bring you flowers. _

_Henry_

Elizabeth sat for a long time. She felt bereft, which, rationally, she knew was silly. It wasn't like she had a real connection with Henry. She was sad and he had done something nice for her. That was the extent of it. Slipping the note back into the envelope, she rose and walked back to her dorm.

October 1983

It was well after dark, when Elizabeth snuck out of her dorm to sit on the steps. She didn't know what to do. She was putting on a good show-excellent student, active in campus activities, friendly. She'd turned her life around and everyone was happy-everyone but Elizabeth.

Sadness and depression seemed to press in on her, despite all of her efforts to fight it off. She was playing the part, but couldn't escape her feelings, especially in the stillness of the night.

What had started as a plan to sit on the steps, became Elizabeth stepping through the hedge to her spot. She hadn't been to the garden in a while. The area, dimly lit by a street lamp, gave way to a potted mum sitting next to the bench and a note held down by the rock.

Elizabeth pulled her jacket closer around her and sat down, the cold permeating through her sweatpants, sending a shiver up her spine. She ripped open the envelope.

_Elizabeth,_

_I brought you a mum. I thought you might like something cheery for the change in season. My mom used to put mums around our front porch in the fall. A couple weeks ago, it was three years since I lost her. I had a rough few days, but I'm better now. It doesn't look like you've been out here, so I hope that means that school is going well and you're staying busy. I'm sending positive thoughts your way._

_Henry_

Holding the note to her chest, she smiled through her tears. Did Henry know how often she thought of him? He must think of her sometimes too if he brought her the flower and wrote her a note. Reaching down, Elizabeth brushed her fingers over the burgundy petals and was taken back to her childhood where decorative displays of straw bales and mums adorned their lawn.

At the time, she had thought it was silly, especially when her dad sat in the front yard handing out candy on Halloween. It was embarrassing how her parents would fawn all over the neighborhood children in their superhero, ghost, and witch costumes. Now, she'd give anything to be able to sit with them and listen to their banter about how cute the little boy next door was in his Snoopy costume.

A cold breeze snapped her back to the present. Elizabeth tucked the note in her pocket and hurried back to her dorm. She had a letter to write.

November 1983

Henry stepped off the bus. He hadn't seen or heard from Elizabeth since that day when he showed her the violets. He'd left two notes. He couldn't even be sure that she'd seen them. As he walked to the campus, he couldn't believe he was even doing this. "Why are you so hung up on this girl?" he muttered under his breath.

He stepped through the gate and slipped into the small side garden. When he saw the rock on the bench, he assumed that she hadn't seen his last letter, but as he got closer, he saw that the envelope under the rock was a soft lavender and his heart pounded wildly. Henry picked it up and stared at it in disbelief. His name was written across the front in a perfectly slanted script. He carefully removed the letter and let his eyes fall across the words.

_Henry,_

_It sounds so silly to say, considering we only spoke a couple of times, but I miss you and think about you often. You're the only person I've met since coming here, who really understands me. Everyday, I go through the motions and everyone thinks I'm fine. But I'm not. I pretend to be happy, but inside I feel hollow. I don't know how to make it better. Please tell me that I won't always feel this way._

_Elizabeth_

_P.S. My parents always had mums in our front yard too._

Henry took a stuttered breath, vividly recalling those first months coming back to school, and how hard it was. He tucked the note in his pocket and headed out, stopping to glance up at the girls' dorm before walking through the gate.

A week later, Elizabeth stole away to the garden long after bedtime. It had been an awful day, and she was exhausted, mentally and physically. She'd even skipped studying in favor of going to bed early, but after staring at the ceiling for hours, she could only think of Henry. He would know what to say to make her feel better. She wasn't typically the praying type, but she prayed that there would be a new letter. She desperately needed one.

Stealing into the garden, the tightness in her chest dissipated when she saw a second mum, this one gold, positioned at the opposite end of the bench. Under the rock was his letter. She was overwhelmed with emotion that Henry seemed to know exactly when she needed to hear from him the most. Sitting quickly, she ripped the letter open and held it in the moonlight as she poured over his words.

_My dearest Elizabeth,_

_It pains me to know you're struggling. I remember those days of just trying to make it to the end of the day. By the time I finished my work, my body begged for sleep, but my mind wouldn't let me. The first year is the hardest. I wish I could say something to make it better sooner, but nothing will. I think about you almost constantly, and if I could will your pain away, I would, in a heartbeat. I'll await your next letter._

_Henry_

Elizabeth stayed outside, in the stillness of the night until she could bear it no more. Returning to her room, she climbed into bed. For the first time since the day in mid March, she fell asleep quickly, clutching Henry's letter to her chest.

And so it continued. In the late night hours, Elizabeth sneaked away from her dorm to her secret garden, rewarded with a letter every few days or so, which she promptly responded to. She kept them all in a small box in her bottom desk drawer, pulling them out each night, reading them to comfort herself.

Their interaction was less as it got colder, and with the holidays, Elizabeth expected that Henry went home for his college break, although he didn't specifically say that. She and Will had spent a week with Joan, but Elizabeth could tell Joan was relieved to be dropping them back off at school. Will immediately contacted a friend whose parents were quick to come and pick him up, leaving Elizabeth alone when the big snowstorm hit. It was worse up north, but the fear of low temperatures and blizzard-like conditions had been serious enough that the administration at Virginia Prep held off the beginning of school for a week, so instead of being surrounded by all of the other kids on January 10, 1984, Elizabeth was alone in Houghton Hall.

Having seen the news, Elizabeth knew that she was going to get snowed in and decided to just stay in bed for the most part. It was warm and she was surrounded by books and microwave meals. She'd make it. Of course, she would probably break down a handful of times, a combination of the quiet and too much time to think, but overall, it was getting better. Christmas was hard, but getting back to school had actually been a good thing.

Elizabeth lay down as the snow started to fall, and with Henry's letters scattered around her, she fell asleep. Her dreams were unremarkable, but there was a constant, scraping noise in the background. Starting to wake, she realized that the noise was coming from outside and she pulled the pillow over her head to drown it out.

"Better," she mumbled under her breath. She lay there for a few minutes until it dawned on her that the scraping was probably someone shoveling the snow. Tossing the pillow to the side, she rolled out of bed and looked out her window. There was a path from the street, up the drive, right up to her dorm. Her brows furrowed. Why would anyone do that? No one even knew she was on campus. Catching a glimpse of the bundled figure, Elizabeth tore away from the window and ran down the stairs and out the front door.

"Henry!" she called out, and the man, who was about 20 paces away, turned around and made his way back to her.

Unwrapping his scarf, he wore a wide smile. "So you are here. I thought maybe you would be." Glancing down, he saw her shuffling her feet, standing in the snow in her socks. "You need to get inside. You're going to freeze!" He moved to hold the door, so she could step inside. Following her in, they stared at each other for a moment, and then a fit of giggles erupted from them both.

"How are you?" he asked.

She shrugged. "Doing okay, I guess. Some days are better than others."

"Where's your brother? Surely he can take your mind off things."

"Will and I have a-" she paused for a long moment. "It's complicated. He's in DC I think." Henry raised an eyebrow, but didn't ask and Elizabeth didn't volunteer. It was impossible to explain a situation that even she didn't really understand.

They stood in the entryway of the building, the silence was becoming awkward. Henry gave her a sly smile. "When was the last time you played in the snow?"

Elizabeth laughed, caught off guard by the question. "Years ago. I was probably 10."

"How about we build a snowman? It snowed six inches overnight. This is the most snow we've had so far this year. Let's take advantage of it." Henry's smile was wide and inviting and she found herself giving in to his joy.

"Okay. Give me a minute to change. I'll be right back down." She disappeared up the stairs and changed into two pairs of sweatpants, two pairs of wool socks, her boots and a sweater. She zipped her parka over it and slipped on her mittens. Lumbering down the stairs, with her scarf in hand, she found that Henry had rewrapped his scarf around his face and neck. She quickly did the same and allowed him to take her mittened hand and he dragged her out the door.

Elizabeth couldn't remember the last time she had so much fun. They built a rather sad looking snowman, threw snowballs at each other and played tag. She laughed and for the first time in such a long time, it was genuine.

Henry caught Elizabeth by the waist and they dropped to the ground making side by side snow angels. She rolled to her side and watched him. "I'm starting to get cold. Want some hot chocolate?"

She struggled to get to her feet and then helped Henry to his. She led him into the building and up the steps to her room. Stripping their outerwear off, they hung soaked coats and gloves up and set snow boots on towels to contain the mess.

Elizabeth fixed styrofoam cups of hot chocolate and they sat quietly, drinking and thinking. "Henry?" His name was phrased more as a question than precursor to a statement. When he looked at her, his breath was taken away. She sat with her legs criss-crossed, balanced on her desk chair. Her hair was messy from her stocking cap and her cheeks rosy from cold.

Elizabeth had eyes the color of the clearest pool of water he could imagine and he was drowning in them. A feeling of deep love and longing swept over him and he desperately wanted to kiss her, touch her, and more. He tried to blink those thoughts away, a grimace covering his face when they wouldn't leave. "Henry, what's wrong?" she asked.

He shook his head, trying to clear his mind. Elizabeth was entirely too young for him to even be thinking about such things, plus she was vulnerable and wasn't ready for that. She trusted him. He couldn't take advantage of the situation. "Oh, Elizabeth," he sighed.

He moved closer and knelt on the floor in front of where she sat. "I think it's time I go. For good." He saw the bewilderment cloud her expression, and he struggled, knowing he didn't have the words to make her understand. "You are strong and brave and no matter what comes your way, you will figure out a way to overcome it. You don't need me."

"But I do. You know. You understand. I don't have to pretend with you. Please don't go." She twisted her hands in her lap, letting her feet fall to the floor.

"As hard as it is, you need to keep living. Your parents didn't want you to die too. So, do it for them, even when it's hard. You'll always have them in your heart." Henry stood and Elizabeth joined him.

"Please stay," she whispered, grabbing hold of his hand.

"If I stay, it wouldn't be good for either of us." He pulled his hand away. "I have to go now." He walked out the door and moved to step into his boots. Elizabeth stood in the doorway and tried to make sense of what was happening.

"Did I do something to make you mad? I'm sorry. I swear. Just tell me and I won't do it again." Elizabeth's voice cracked and Henry closed his eyes as he shrugged into his heavy coat. "Please?" she begged. "I'll do anything." He couldn't make eye contact because he knew she was crying and he was the reason. Why had he been so dumb? It was selfish of him to fall for this girl when she was so trusting, so willing to please.

"It's nothing you did. I promise. I just can't be who you need me to be." He stepped close and pressed his lips to her forehead, committing her smell and the warmth of her skin to memory. "I'm sorry Elizabeth." Then he turned and hurried down the stairs.

Elizabeth couldn't figure out what just happened. Henry was the hope she clung to. He was the only one who could make it better. How could he leave her? She was rooted to the spot in her doorway, lost in her thoughts. Suddenly, she was snapped out of it by the slam of the heavy oak door. She raced down behind him and flung the door open. "You son of a bitch. I hate you!" she screamed, as he made his way down the driveway and turned the corner to walk down the road.


	4. Chapter 4

AN: With all of this isolation and social distancing, I'm thankful that sallysaysrelax reminded me that today is Wednesday. I'm also thankful for all those that are hanging around for this story I apologize for the ending of the last chapter. It just happened. And, as a warning, you probably aren't going to like me much better at the end of this one. I'm sorry. My muse is what it is-a little bitch.

Chapter 4

"_You son of a bitch. I hate you!" she screamed, as he made his way down the driveway and turned the corner to walk down the road._

He vowed not to turn back. "Just keep walking. It's what you have to do." He mumbled the mantra over and over. The wind had picked up and was bitterly cold. Henry squeezed his eyes closed to keep his tears from freezing in them. He breathed in and out, repeating the words in his head, focusing on the sound of the remnants of snow on the cleared path crunch beneath his feet.

Her words, "I hate you," echoed in the stillness of the snowy midday. Her words reverberated in Henry's head and he flinched, but he did not stop walking. He continued to put one foot in front of the other, repeating his mantra. "Just. Keep. Walking."

He couldn't bear to turn around and see what he'd done. Henry knew she thought he was abandoning her, just like her parents, her aunt and her brother, but he didn't know what else to do. He had feelings for her. If he was 30 and she was 26, four years was a non-issue. But, he was nineteen and she was fifteen. She was fifteen and hurting, vulnerable. Elizabeth trusted him. She had looked at him with those clear blue eyes, open and willing to do whatever he asked. He couldn't, no, he wouldn't take advantage of the situation like that. And so, Henry marched onward out into the street, planning never to return to Virginia Preparatory Academy.

March 1984

Henry's eyes shot open; his heart pounding wildly in his chest. He struggled to regain control of his breathing. Pushing himself up on one elbow, he tried to make his eyes focus. Dim light from the streetlamps outside pushed in around cheap, metal mini blinds. His dorm room came into focus and Henry remembered where he was. Sitting up fully, he took in the sharp industrial angles of the furniture in his dorm room and scrubbed his hand over his face. His stubble was rough, feeling foreign to him. He let out a slow breath.

Nightmares were a frequent occurrence as of late. They always started the same. His mother was dead. He stood over her casket looking at her body, and it was Elizabeth who stood beside him, holding his hand. The warmth of her hand seemed to hold a lifeline-proof that he could still feel love, that he was worthy of such a relationship. Suddenly, the ground opened, swallowing up the casket. Henry looked to Elizabeth for comfort, but she evaporated into nothingness, leaving a deep hole in his heart.

Sighing, Henry pressed his hand to his chest, hoping to ease an ache that consumed his entire body. It had been two months since he'd left a crying Elizabeth standing on the steps of her dorm. There wasn't a moment that went by that he didn't think of her. Rationally, he knew he was grieving the loss, but knowing didn't make it any easier. Every thought brought all of the longing and guilt he felt to the forefront. He bowed his head and prayed that she was doing okay and that one day she would forgive him, that he could forgive himself.

He slipped his fingers between the dingy slats of the blinds and pried them open, just wide enough to peer out into the darkness. Everything was still, the frozen ground was barren, a feeling with which Henry was well acquainted.

Just like when Henry returned to school after his mother passed, he focused all of his energy into schoolwork and campus activities. Pushing his mind into overdrive, he memorized quote after quote, details of religious texts, historical documents. Each night he fell into bed so exhausted that he fell into a stilted, dreamless sleep. He was just as exhausted when he woke the next morning, but he continued to push himself.

As each day passed, Henry found that he was able to carve out a few more minutes, time when he could focus on something besides Elizabeth. After several months, she could cross his mind and he would not immediately fall into despair. It was then that he decided it was time that he needed to push Elizabeth out of his mind for good.

October 1985

Henry pulled out a heavy wooden chair, and the squeak of wood against wood echoed through the room. He fished a book out of his backpack and set it down, before dropping the bag in a heap beneath the edge of the well worn walnut table. The pub was nearly empty at three in the afternoon. Only he and the handful of other religion majors loitered in the space.

Henry looked out across the room, and watched the afternoon sun pour into the front window, illuminating tiny dust particles floating in the air. Familiar banter wafted about and Henry waved the waitress over and ordered a beer.

He observed the way her too tight jeans hugged her ass and the thought of how she would feel against him flitted through his thoughts. He grimaced and pushed the notion away. Not now-and not her. As religious discussion abounded and the beer kept flowing, Henry relaxed. The evening wore on and the religious book club group morphed into the happy hour business crowd, which was soon replaced by the get drunk college crowd.

Henry sat against the wall, silently observing. His table held a red plastic basket containing only a red and white checkered square of waxed paper littered with bread crumbs and a dollop of ketchup. Lined up next to the basket were eight, empty, amber colored bottles looking like they were waiting to receive marching orders.

He held the ninth between his index finger and thumb, swirling the last bit of liquid around the bottom before wrapping his fingers around the neck, tipping it up, draining it into his throat. He eyed the redhead at the end of the bar. She grinned at him.

Henry flagged the waitress down and as she approached the table, the woman in her too tight jeans let her eyes travel between Henry and the army of bottles. "You think you need more?"

Henry raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, one more, and buy Red another of whatever she's having." The waitress's eyes darted toward the end of the bar where they met the girl's. With a slight nod, she scuttled off to fetch the beer and Henry watched her speak to the bartender who looked to Henry.

Henry observed as two ice cubes clinked into the tumbler and the man upended the bottle of whiskey, pouring two fingers, before sliding it down the bar. When the woman made eye contact, the bartender gestured toward Henry. She turned and he offered a smile.

Eyebrows raised, the woman turned her attention back to the drink. She quickly clutched the glass and elevated it, letting the full amount disappear into her mouth. She set the tumbler down on the bar, pushing it away from her. The glass grated against the wood until it came to rest in the bartender's hand.

Sliding off the barstool, her heels clicked in an uneven rhythm on the concrete floor, as she sauntered toward Henry, only a little unsteady. Coming to a stop in front of him, she held out her hand. "I'm Tabitha."

He wrapped his fingers around hers, and found them to be warm, slightly damp. Maybe this was new to her as well. "Henry."

Cocking her head slightly, she appraised him carefully. "Well, now that we're acquainted, why don't you take me home?"

Henry was taken aback by Tabitha's boldness. This obviously wasn't her first rodeo, but there was something behind her piercing green eyes, something taunting him, daring him to play the part he'd signed up for, to be the person he thought he wanted to be.

He held her gaze for a moment, gathered his courage, and held the bottle to his lips. Relaxing his throat, he tipped the bottle back and let the contents slide down. Pushing himself up from the chair, he stood for a long moment and waited for everything to stop moving. Once he was sure he could navigate the room, he slipped his arm around Tabitha, his large hand splayed low on her hip.

That first night, Henry and Tabitha didn't get far, both passing out before they could do too much. But, within a few days, he was in her bed. While they didn't have much in common, they found that they were physically compatible. They managed to make it last a couple months before they tired of each other, both unwilling to admit they might want more than just sex. Parting amicably, Henry had a new girl in his bed before the week was out. A new Henry had emerged.

Henry had many "relationships" over the next 18 months, if that's what one chose to call them. The ROTC guys termed them "Henry's latest fuck," which he thought that was rather crass, but wasn't so attached to any of them that he bothered to defend their honor. His girls were just that, and he was the same to them.

Everyone said they were just looking for a few laughs and a good time. It was only a coincidence that after six weeks or so, the couple always found that being physical just wasn't quite enough. Henry decided he didn't want to meet anyone anyway. He was entering the Marines once he got his Master's. He didn't need a girl holding him back. Henry's plan was well laid out. He'd just make do these next couple of years, leave for the Marines, and find someone serious after.

It was a good plan and it stayed the plan until that mid-September day in 1986 when he sat with his latest fuck, Rochana. They shared a table by the door in a small sandwich shop at the edge of campus. They sat close, his hand high up on her thigh, her hands wrapped around his arm, holding him tight, letting her head rest against his shoulder. Rochana was prattling on about her Literature class and Henry looked out the window, watching the first leaves fall from the trees and blow about wildly in the air.

The door flung open and the leaves seemed to be sucked inside, fluttering around the brown leather penny loafers of a girl. Henry's eyes trailed up miles of denim to the slim hips and toned body of a blond. She quickly shook the leaves away and flipped her hair back, exposing her piercing blue eyes. "Elizabeth," he murmured.

The young woman turned and made eye contact with Henry, and instantaneously her eyes turned dark with recognition and a scowl covered her face. She turned on her heel and fled the shop.

Henry's body stiffened as he realized what was happening and Rochana pulled away from him alarmed. "What's wrong with you?" she asked, only a hint of concern conveyed in her otherwise annoyed tone.

"Get off me," he commanded, wrenching his arm away from her. He scrambled out the door to chase Elizabeth down the street.

"Elizabeth! Wait!" he called, running at full speed, closing the distance between them quickly. He caught her by the elbow and she spun around to face him..

"Why are you here? You were never supposed to still be here," she said, her voice full of fury.

"I-I'm in grad school," he said. "Why are you here?" he smiled widely trying to diffuse the situation, but it faded quickly when she didn't return it.

She narrowed her eyes and lowered her voice. "I want you to stay the hell away from me. I don't want to see you. I don't want to hear you and I sure as hell don't want to talk to you. Do you understand me?" Her gaze was unrelenting and he felt himself taking a step away to make more room between them..

She turned and walked away from him without turning back. Suddenly, all of the feelings he thought he'd dealt with, all of the feelings he had for her, hit him like a tidal wave. Henry took two stumbling steps backward, the air knocked from his lungs. He still loved her, and it was obvious, she hated him.


	5. Chapter 5

AN: I apologize up front that this chapter isn't very long, but I thought it was necessary backstory. Thanks to those who are still following along. I appreciate your support and kind words.

Chapter 5

With each step, Elizabeth's feet pounded the concrete, allowing the jarring sensation to ricochet up her legs, through her body, coming to stop at her clenched jaw.

Her breaths came quickly as she walked straight back to her room. She turned the key in the lock and slid inside. Elizabeth leaned back against the door, and finally let out a shuddering breath. "Why?" she breathed out, her mind going back to that January day nearly three years prior.

MSMSMSMSMSMS

Elizabeth stood on the front step of her dorm watching Henry walk away, taking her hope of ever being happy with him. He disappeared around the corner and the only sound that could be heard was the sobs that she couldn't contain no matter how hard she tried.

Having no idea how long she stayed in the spot, she finally, no longer able to feel her feet, turned and trudged back to her room. Elizabeth sat on the edge of her bed and tried to figure out what she'd done to make Henry leave. Tears flowed freely down her chapped cheeks. Elizabeth felt like Henry was just one more person in a long line of people she had driven away.

She stared at the gray, industrial carpet, focusing on the stain in the middle of the floor in front of her desk. She'd knocked her soda over a few days ago. At the time, she hadn't thought much about it, but now it was physical evidence of one more thing she'd ruined.

Elizabeth had an argument with her mother the morning she died. Her father was put out with her because of how she treated her mother. Will barely tolerated her. Of course she mothered him. Someone needed to, but even trying to be helpful and loving drove him away. Aunt Joan never really wanted to get close to start with. But Henry-Elizabeth thought he was different. He had always gone out of his way to be nice, doing things to make her feel like part of something. She felt that Henry liked her for who she was.

Elizabeth released a shuddering breath. She'd been wrong about that. She'd obviously done something to make him want to leave too. It was plainly obvious that she wasn't meant to have deep connections with people. She just ended up hurting the people she cared about.

She peeled her clothing off until, layer by layer she was down to her t-shirt and underwear. She dropped the empty cups into the trash, flipped off the light, and climbed into bed. Wiping her tears on the edge of the sheet, she wished she understood what she did that made people want to abandon her. Tears fell until exhaustion took over, falling into a restless sleep.

By that Sunday afternoon when everyone returned to campus, she had stuffed her hurt and insecurities deep within her. Elizabeth was all smiles as she listened to her roommate tell her all about her holiday. "Fake it 'til you make it," was the recurring theme of Elizabeth's thoughts.

Months passed and the following year, Elizabeth tried out for the field hockey team and the golf team. She did well at both and her flawless features and athletic physique earned her the attention of many of the boys. Craving love and acceptance, she willingly obliged those that held her close and told her they loved her. For most of her junior year, she had a line of young men at the ready who would profess their adoration of her in the most physical of ways.

It was only when the new wore off and someone cuter or more flirtatious came along, that Elizabeth came to the realization that physical connection wasn't the only thing she was looking for. All of her relationships lacked the emotional connection, the sense of wholeness and belonging that she'd only felt once since her parents died.

Elizabeth shied away from most guys her senior year, with only her friend, Joey, being the exception. They sat together on the dorm roof staring at the night sky, talking about their hopes and dreams. Joey was her best friend, and he filled the need she had emotionally, but had shut her down when she hinted at a physical relationship. Of course, that turned out to be just as well, because he would be returning to his home country of Bahrain and finding a suitable partner there. Yet again, Elizabeth was left feeling bereft.

Elizabeth toured the University of Virginia with Aunt Joan her senior year and fell in love. It was where her parents met, her father two years older than her mother. They always spoke fondly of their alma mater and Elizabeth could see why. The tradition was rich on the campus and she felt a sense of familiarity and peace that she hadn't felt for a long time.

Henry McCord briefly crossed her mind, but she quickly decided that he would be long gone and she wouldn't care even if she happened upon him. "Son of a bitch," she muttered under her breath as she pushed that thought to the side.

The night before graduation, Elizabeth packed up her room at Virginia Prep for the final time. Laundry baskets and totes lined the front of her closet. She was exhausted from finals and anticipation of graduation, but she balanced the cardboard box on her hip and turned to look at her desk. Sighing, she decided she might as well finish and then she could sleep in a bit the following morning.

Pens, tape, post-it notes, and paper clips littered the bottom of the box, followed by notebooks filled with notes containing mathematical theorems, historical events and Spanish conjugations. Reaching back into the bottom drawer, her hand brushed against a stationery box and she pulled it out. A lump immediately formed in her throat the second she saw the lavender box covered in violets.

Elizabeth sat back and crossed her legs in front of her and placed the box in her lap. Carefully lifting the lid, her breath hitched when she saw the envelopes with the small block letters, spelling out "Elizabeth."

Wrapping her hand around all of the envelopes, she moved to throw them away, but once they hung over the wastebasket, she couldn't bring herself to drop them in. Closing her eyes, she released a long, slow breath, placed them back in the box and shoved the stationery between notebooks.

MSMSMSMSMSMS

Now, back in her UVA dorm room, she eyed her closet. Elizabeth knew when she moved into her dorm room that she had removed the supplies she needed in her desk and took the rest of the contents of that box and shoved it in the back of the closet, just in case she ever had a need for those notes. She didn't specifically remember the stationery box, but she knew it was still there.

"Damn you Henry," she muttered, moving to the closet. Moving a few things out of the way, she pulled the box to the front. Elizabeth unearthed the violet covered box and pulled Henry's letters out, laying them in her lap.

Carefully she pulled each one out and read it. As she read his kind and caring words, she felt as though someone were squeezing her chest, causing her not to be able to breathe. Unable to prevent it, she felt the same confusion and devastation she'd felt that snowy January day and for months after. What had she done to drive him away, and why couldn't he just tell her so she could fix it? She'd needed him so much.

An hour later, Elizabeth wiped the tears from her cheeks and shoved the letters back in the box. She still didn't understand, but enough time had passed that she no longer wanted to know. It didn't really matter anyway.

She pushed the box back into the recesses of her closet and drew in a slow breath. She had made peace with her station in life. She didn't need to rehash that hurt. Henry had been right about one thing. She was strong and she had overcome it. He didn't deserve her.


	6. Chapter 6

AN: I hope everyone is enjoying this story. Thank you for the amazing reviews. I hope you like this next installment.

Chapter 6

"What the hell was that about?" Rochana stood in front of the shop with her hand on her hip and a barely concealed snarl lay just below her annoyed expression.

"I just knew her from a long time ago," Henry said softly, turning to look over his shoulder as he watched Elizabeth disappear around the corner. Henry never expected to see Elizabeth. More than that, he never guessed that he would have such a strong reaction if he did see her again. Rationally, he knew his actions would cause her to hate him. He knew that even as he walked away that day. But to see the hatred in her eyes, when once there had been kindness, and even adoration. It was more than he could take.

Rochana threaded her fingers in his bringing Henry back to the present. "Well, you've definitely moved up. That chick's homely." Rochana arched an eyebrow at Henry as if daring him to challenge her.

Henry surveyed his girlfriend and realized that beauty had very little to do with physical looks. He'd always thought Rochana, with her dark hair and eyes, was very beautiful. Now, after hearing how she spoke about Elizabeth, someone she didn't even know, Rochana was the most unattractive person he could imagine. "It's time we're done Rochana," Henry said through gritted teeth. "You'll find your things in a box outside my door later today. I don't ever want to see you again." He pulled his hand away and walked down the street to his apartment.

Henry vaguely heard the insults that Rochana lobbed his way, but paid no attention to them. His thoughts were on Elizabeth.

Early October 1986 (2 weeks later)

Elizabeth leaned back in the moulded plastic chair and linked her fingers together, stretching her arms back behind her head. She stared across the study area on the library's third floor and sighed. Everyone else had their heads bent down in concentration, studying, or furiously scribbling notes. Introduction to Philosophy was getting the better of her. Running her fingers through her blonde tresses, she huffed. "Why can't philosophy be more like math? Math makes sense. Math has a solution, a correct answer," she muttered under her breath. With midterms coming up, Elizabeth realized that, as much as she didn't want to admit it, she was going to have to go to the learning center and get a tutor.

That afternoon, she walked into the student union and made her way past the restrooms, the mailroom, and the student government office. The student learning center was a glass walled office, with several cubicles set up where older students or area majors tutored students who were having difficulties. Elizabeth had been there a couple of times to interview to tutor lower level math classes, but typically the tutors were at least juniors or even grad students. They had told her to come back in a couple years.

She checked the schedule and added her name to the list before taking a seat. Fifteen minutes later a young man emerged from the back and Elizabeth immediately recognized him from her class. Seeing Elizabeth, he grinned. "That guy explained more in an hour than the professor has all semester. I totally get it now." He walked out with a bounce in his step and Elizabeth felt the tension in her muscles ease a bit. The tutor would help her and everything would be fine.

Elizabeth briefly closed her eyes while she waited, but sat up straighter when a shadow crossed the end of the room. One of the tutors was hunched over the sign in sheet, looking to see if he had someone waiting.

He made a mark on the paper and turned to face the chairs, occupied by three students. "Elizabeth?" he called, his eyes finally gazing over the people in front of him.

He didn't even get the first syllable of her name out and Elizabeth had risen and was headed toward the door. The pressure in her chest was great and she needed to escape. "Of course it would be him," she muttered under her breath.

Henry watched the recognition sweep over her and her immediate retreat. "Shit," he mumbled as the few other students looked concerned at her reaction. Dropping his handful of papers on the table, he followed her out the door.

"Elizabeth, wait," he said, as he caught up to her. "Look, you signed up for tutoring. I get that you don't want anything to do with me. Geoff works tomorrow. Let me make you an appointment with him. I don't want you to not seek help because of me."

Elizabeth looked up and met Henry's eyes. A combination of exhaustion and strong emotion swirled within her. She wanted to hate him. She had survived by hating him enough that she could succeed-to spite him. Now, he was looking at her with the same expression he had when he took her to the secret garden of violets. He wanted nothing more than to help, but he wasn't sure he was doing the right thing.

Despite her best efforts, Elizabeth's heart softened at the memory, and the feelings of anger dissipated into the hurt, confusion, and abandonment she'd felt at the time. Tears sprung to her eyes and she brushed them away quickly. Before she could stop herself, the question escaped her lips in nothing more than a whisper. "What did I do that drove you away?" She forced herself to hold his gaze. She suddenly needed to know. "Why am I so unworthy?"

Henry's heart broke when she asked the question. Why had he been so short sighted? Why hadn't he tried to make her understand? His shoulders sagged and he rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. Henry sighed and watched as she fell deeper into the pit of self loathing. "That's not it. That was never it," he said, his voice cracking. "I-I…" He looked around for someplace more private. He wasn't sure what he was going to say, or even wanted to say, but he knew he didn't want it to be in a busy hallway outside of the restrooms.

"Why don't we sit down?" Henry gestured to a couple of chairs around the corner. Not completely private, but at least it was more out of the way.

Elizabeth nodded and moved to sit down. She expected Henry to sit in the chair opposite a small side table. Instead, he took her jacket and backpack from her and tossed them there, and Henry knelt at Elizabeth's feet, much like he did that day in her room.

He immediately covered her hands with his own, but she pulled away, crossing her arms in front of her protectively. Henry felt that familiar stab of guilt and placed his hands on his thighs and stared at the floor trying to figure out how to explain his actions so she could see that she wasn't the cause.

"First, I'm sorry. It all came to me so suddenly and I didn't think through the ramifications of what would happen. I just knew it couldn't happen and I needed to leave. I needed to go." The creases in Elizabeth's forehead deepened as she tried to make sense of Henry's words.

"I was drawn to you when I very first saw you on the day you arrived at the boarding school. Then I talked to you and I saw myself in you. I saw the anguish, the devastation, the feeling that you didn't belong." Henry paused, choosing his next words carefully. "I just wanted you to know that someone cared-that you weren't alone."

A sharp sound grated across her vocal chords releasing what might have been a laugh if anything had been funny. Elizabeth eyed him. "And yet, you ditched me anyway."

"It was never my intention to fall in love with you." The words tumbled out before Henry could stop them and Elizabeth froze.

Her eyes narrowed and her lips formed a tight line. "You could've said so many things. Lying like that wasn't necessary." She tried to stand. She needed to leave. She'd figure philosophy out on her own. "I've got to go."

Henry held her arm to the chair. "Please. Just give me a minute to explain. I wouldn't lie. I swear."

Everything in Elizabeth's rational mind told her to push him back and walk away. But then she found herself sitting back down. "That makes no sense Henry."

"I know. I didn't plan it and I didn't even know it happened until that day I was sitting in your room." He looked up and tried to gauge her reaction. "It started the day you told me that your mom liked violets and from then on, all I could do was try to come up with a way to make you feel better."

Henry reached up to where her hand lay on the arm of the chair and he began tracing her fingers. "Then when you smiled that afternoon when you saw the garden, I wanted nothing more than to make you smile again. All summer I thought of you and how you were doing. Then we started the letters and I saw the real you."

"I woke up the day that it had snowed and I knew that everything had closed down. My only thought was that I wanted you to be able to get out if you needed to. Hell, Elizabeth, I didn't even know if you were there. Does that sound like rational thought?"

Henry leaned back a little, creating distance. "We had the best time that day. I was happier in that moment than I'd been since before Mom died. And then-" Henry buried his head in his hands.

Elizabeth watched all of this unfold. She'd been determined that she wasn't going to fall for his line of bullshit and that was cemented when he said he loved her. Now as his anguish was evident, she found herself questioning. _Was he telling the truth?_ She watched him curiously to see what would happen, her stomach rolling in anticipation of what would come next.

"And then, I looked at you and I felt the connection so deeply and I wanted you. I wanted to show you how much I loved you. But, I couldn't. I had to put distance between us. I had to get away."

"I would've given you everything," Elizabeth whispered.

"I know," Henry said, solemnly. "And that's why I couldn't stay. You would've given me everything because you trusted me as a friend, not because you loved me. You were vulnerable and I didn't want to take advantage of the situation."

Elizabeth was reeling and she wasn't sure what she should believe. It was such a different scenario than what she'd crafted in her mind, but Henry seemed so sincere. He'd never lied before. The air seemed to get thin and she couldn't catch her breath. "I need to go," she said, as she pushed to standing. "I'll come back tomorrow for help on my philosophy," she whispered, as she grabbed her things from the chair nearby, and she disappeared around the corner leaving Henry to wonder exactly where they stood.


	7. Chapter 7

AN: It's Wednesday y'all! I hope you enjoy where this story is going and thanks to all who continue to follow along. This story has been written for a while, but coincidentally this chapter meets a lilacmermaid prompt in which Henry/Elizabeth says, "Truce."

I'll see you next Wednesday!

Chapter 7

Henry slouched down in the vinyl backed wooden chair in the student learning center. It had been a slow day. It seemed there wasn't much need for religion or philosophy tutors. In the absence of something to keep his mind occupied, Henry ́s thoughts turned to Elizabeth. That seemed to be the norm now. He had spent so much time scrubbing her from his thoughts, and now he barely had a thought that didn't include her.

The ROTC guys had been giving him grief about why he broke up with Rochana and why he hadn't picked up anyone new. He continued to ignore them, not really knowing what to say. The truth didn't sound all that great. "̈Yeah guys, the woman I love hates me and now I ́m just stuck here obsessing over her."

The clink of someone rapping on the metal edging of the cubicle broke Henry's trance. Elizabeth stood in the doorway. She looked tired and frazzled, her hair haphazardly pulled into a loose ponytail, dark circles under her eyes and he was sure that she was wearing the sweatshirt she had on the other day when he saw her. "Hi," he said, softly. "I'm surprised to see you here."

"I came yesterday and your friend, James, wasn't very helpful," she said.

"Geoff," he interrupted.

"Whatever," she replied, giving a dismissive wave of her hand. "He was useless and I don't understand the concepts for the midterm. It just so happens that my desire to keep my scholarship is greater than my desire not to have to deal with you."

"I'll take that as progress," Henry grinned. Elizabeth shot him a look that would have sent his Marine buddies packing for the hills. Seeing that he wasn't going to get anything more from her, he sobered and pulled out the chair, pointing to it. "Ok, then. Let's get started with Confucius."

An hour later, Henry had explained everything and Elizabeth showed good understanding of all of the core ideas of the different philosophers and the relationships between them. Henry was amazed that she picked everything up so quickly, especially since she said she was having trouble. He thought about commenting on it, but decided against it. They seemed to be on an even footing and he didn't want to take a chance and mess that up.

Elizabeth pushed the chair back and stood. Sitting with Henry hadn't been as bad as she was imagining, but now the session was over and she needed to maintain her distance. Elizabeth didn't trust herself, fearful that she would break down and blindly accept whatever Henry said as truth and he would hurt her again.

"Thank you for your help. I definitely understand everything better." Elizabeth bent down to gather her jacket and backpack and when. She stood, Henry was next to her.

"It was my pleasure." He exhaled and he was close enough that his breath tickled her neck. She moved half a step back, increasing the space between them. Henry sighed. "Do you think you will ever be able to forgive me?' he asked, staring at the floor.

"It's a lot, and there are other factors. I just don't know." She stepped out of the cubicle into the makeshift hallway.

"I broke up with my girlfriend a couple weeks ago. I realized that the women I've been dating have only been placeholders. It's you I love, and if I can't have you, then I don't want anyone."

She studied Henry for a moment and thought about telling him that she didn't care, but instead, she murmured, "Goodbye Henry." She turned and walked away.

The next afternoon, Elizabeth sat in her room, gazing at the mid-October sunset. It was beautiful and she tried to let the warmth of the scene envelope her, but the feeling proved elusive. There was a knock at the door and she glanced at her watch, assuming that some of the girls from down the hall were coming to get her for dinner. "Just a sec," she called out, picking up her coat and scarf. Whipping the door open, Elizabeth stepped out into the hall and ran into an elderly man.

"Whoa there! Slow down young lady. Are you Elizabeth Adams?" She stopped and took him in.

"Yes, can I help you?" she asked, cocking her head to one side curiously.

The man thrust a gift-wrapped box in her direction. "This is for you."

Her forehead wrinkled in confusion. "Oh-kay," she said slowly as she reached out to take the box. "Thank you."

The man gave her a short nod and headed off down the hall. Elizabeth watched as he turned the corner and headed down the stairs. She moved back into her room, dropping her coat to the floor. Sitting on the edge of her bed, Elizabeth tugged at the wrapping paper, letting it fall away, revealing a decorative box. She pulled the lid off to find a violet covered stationery box just like the one hidden away in her closet. She removed the note that was taped to the box and began to read.

_We seem to have good luck communicating this way, so if it's alright, I'd like to write to you. On the off chance that you'd ever write me back, I found more of your stationery, just in case you didn't have your set anymore. Henry_

Elizabeth sighed, wishing Henry would just leave her be. She had dealt with all of this and buried it appropriately. She had come to terms with depending only on herself. Will had been sort of willing to spend at least an hour or so with her every month now that she wasn't at Virginia Prep anymore. That was a good thing, more than she'd had-more than she sometimes felt like she deserved. Everything had been fine until Henry McCord popped back up, stirring all of these desires for comfort and belonging in her again.

Elizabeth tossed the box behind her on the bed and picked her coat up off the floor. It was dinnertime and she was going to start with ice cream first.

A few days before Halloween:

Elizabeth pushed herself up from the table and stretched her arms over her head. She'd been hunched over her books for the past two hours and her body was demanding a break. She rummaged around in the front pocket of her backpack and found a dollar bill. Shoving it into her back pocket, she headed off in search of the restroom and a cup of coffee.

She'd only been gone a few minutes when Henry emerged from the stacks. He felt a little creepy having chosen his study spot just so he could see Elizabeth, but in the two weeks that had passed, she made no attempt at speaking to him. He moved to stand at the edge of the table where she'd been working. He could still catch her scent. He let out a little huff. That definitely made him creepy. He laid his latest letter on top of her notebook, slung his backpack over his shoulder and headed down the stairs, out of the library.

Elizabeth returned several minutes later clutching a paper coffee cup, muttering about how she should've been smart enough to wear a coat if she was going outside to get a coffee. Plopping down in the chair, she set the cup far enough back that it wouldn't be easy to spill. It was then that her eyes fell on the letter.

She felt the air escape her lungs, leaving her deflated. She had mixed feelings about Henry's letters. On one hand they infuriated her. He had an incredible amount of nerve to write about how he thought of her daily, when he was the one who caused all of this hurt to begin with.

But, even as upset as she was, there was also a certain thrill each time she discovered a letter. This was the third, and she glanced around to see if she could spot him watching her. When she was sure that he wasn't around, she slid her finger under the flap, separating the two pieces of paper.

Removing the note card, she read:

_Elizabeth,_

_Halloween is coming up. There's a big party at the Sigma Chi house on Saturday. I'd like to hang out with you. I'll be there no matter what. Just letting you know. Henry_

Elizabeth tossed the note on the table and rubbed her temples. Why wouldn't he just give up? She needed him to leave her alone. She thought about that. Maybe if he thought she was with someone else, he would back off. She sat up a little straighter. It would be a bonus if he got a taste of his own medicine in the process. Her chest tightened just a bit at the thought. Yes, it was petty. But sometimes, being petty felt justified. This definitely felt justified.

Saturday night, Henry roamed the party feeling a little defeated. It wasn't like he actually expected Elizabeth to show up and come racing up to him, all smiles. He knew where she stood. It was unfortunate that his brain and heart wouldn't work toward the same goal. Grabbing a beer, he moved to the front room and chatted with some friends. He wasn't purposely watching the door, but he couldn't miss her coming in.

She peeled her coat off and tossed it in the bay window with several others. She scanned the crowd, careful not to let her eyes fall any one place for too long. She spotted Henry right off, but ignored him. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught him doing a double take. "Good," she murmured as she made her way to the keg. "This is going to be a good night."

Henry had never seen Elizabeth in much of anything other than her high school uniform or jeans and baggy sweatshirts. It was obvious she was trying to make an impression, and damned if she wasn't doing a bang-up job.

She wore a black skirt that was short enough that he knew he could see her ass if she attempted to bend over at all. Her long sleeved black, glittery shirt clung to her slim frame and accentuated her cleavage. Her makeup was heavier than he'd ever seen her wear and her hair hung in perfectly sculpted curls brushing her shoulders. Four inch heels completed the outfit, capping her mile long, toned legs. Henry swallowed thickly. His mind went to all sorts of places, none of them appropriate and he knew that every guy that saw her would be thinking the same thing.

He watched as she sauntered to the keg and let the guy standing there fill her cup. Taking it, she tipped it back and chugged it, immediately earning the respect of the guy. He quickly refilled it, which she emptied while standing there. Henry wasn't sure what the guy said to Elizabeth, but she laughed, leaned in, and kissed him on the cheek before walking away, her cup filled a third time.

Henry tried not to show that it bothered him, but when Elizabeth snuggled up Troy Jenkins, who Henry thought was the biggest, womanizing scum at UVA, he'd seen enough. He watched long enough to see Troy feed her at least three more beers and a couple swigs of whatever he had in his flask before leading her down the hall to his room. He left, fuming, and walked down the sidewalk toward his apartment. It wasn't like Elizabeth owed him anything, and truthfully, she had been very upfront about not wanting anything to do with him, but he knew that Troy was a piece of work and she didn't need to be messed up with that. Elizabeth was, however, a grown woman. She obviously knew what she was doing. He continued to march toward campus, but as the music faded into the background, doubt started to creep in. Was Elizabeth really as all in as she made it out to be? She'd had a lot to drink. Troy could be persuasive. Henry stopped in his tracks. He'd heard about how Troy "persuaded" women.

"Fuck," he muttered, turning around. He headed back toward the frat house. With each step Henry took, the more nervous he got. He shouldn't care, and he was probably wrong and she'd hate him even more than she already did. Even as he thought it, there was the niggling notion that maybe she was just drunk enough to lose her edge, that she wouldn't be able to fend off Troy's advances if they were unwanted.

He swallowed hard, _if_ they were unwanted. Perhaps she was all in. The constriction in his chest was almost unbearable by the time he walked through the front door. Maneuvering his way through the crowd, he finally stood at the head of the long hall of bedrooms. Suddenly, he realized that he had no way of knowing which room was Troy's and he couldn't just open doors. He shuddered. Henry walked slowly down the hall and was about halfway down when a door flew open and Elizabeth crashed into him.

"Get back here, you little whore," Troy spat, following closely behind. Henry stepped in between them.

"Whoa, Troy. Looks like you should go find another target. It seems as if this one's not interested."

"Fuck off McCord." Troy reached around Henry and grabbed Elizabeth's arm pulling her back toward the doorway. Elizabeth whimpered at how tightly he held her arm.

"Leave her alone, Jenkins," Henry said through gritted teeth. He was having trouble keeping a level head. He grasped Troy's wrist and squeezed until Troy loosened his grip on Elizabeth. "I said, let her go."

Troy released Elizabeth and Henry let go of Troy's wrist, but what he didn't expect was the left hook that connected with his jaw. Pain exploded from the contact point and Henry's reflex was to close his eyes as the pain swept through them. He vaguely heard Elizabeth gasp. He opened them at just the right time to see and block the blow from the opposite side.

Henry grabbed Troy by his shirt and shoved him into the doorframe. Troy threw another punch hitting Henry in the ribs. Henry recovered quickly and blocked the next assault and threw his own punch, landing on Troy's right eye. It was followed by an uppercut to the stomach and a left hook, which missed Troy's chin, but caught his nose and his upper lip. Grabbing him by the throat, Henry held Troy against the wall just outside his door. "Stay away from Elizabeth. If I catch you within spitting distance of her, I will kill you. Got it?" Without waiting for a response, Henry shoved Troy inside his room and closed the door.

Turning to Elizabeth, he asked, "Are you alright?" Elizabeth's appearance was concerning. She stood pressed to the wall, rubbing her arm. Her skin was ashen, her expression terrified and her eyes clouded. She just turned away from him and looked down the hall.

"Can you please take me home?" she mumbled. Henry didn't say anything, but nodded, and walked in front of her, carving a path through the throng of people to the front door where she got her coat.

They walked down the sidewalk without speaking, each click of her heels hitting the concrete intensifying the shame she felt. She went with the intention of hurting Henry so he would just leave her alone. She was drunk and, at the time, she didn't think she would mind doing what needed to be done, right up until the moment that she did.

Then Troy didn't want to stop, she pushed him away and told him no, but he just laughed and told her that wasn't the way it worked. She sighed and stopped walking. The full weight of what could've happened pressed down on her. Henry made it a couple steps further before he realized that she was no longer beside him.

He stepped back to her and offered his hand. "We need to get you back home."

She looked up and met his gaze, illuminated by the soft light of the street lamp several paces ahead of them. "Why were you there?" she asked.

He let his hand fall to the side. "I know what kind of guy Troy is. He gets around. People talk."

"He gets around? Like you?" She paused for a moment and caught the slight rise in Henry's brow. "People talk."

Henry cringed. That was always a great thing to be known for. He looked her in the eye. "I can say with certainty that I was never with anyone who didn't want to be with me. I'm not so sure Troy could say the same thing, if he were ever really honest about it." A wave of realization swept over him. "I may have been trying to compensate for something else, although I would've argued differently at the time."

"Yeah, I understand that, a little too well." She took a step toward campus and Henry fell in line beside her.

"I came to the party tonight to get rid of you once and for all." Her words were soft, nearly lost in the breeze that had picked up as they rounded the corner nearing the freshman dorms.

"It worked. I left," he said. Elizabeth turned and looked at him, slowing her pace. "But I got to thinking about Troy, so I went back, but I was too late." He hung his head.

"He didn't hurt me. I mean he did, but not like that. I think he would've if he'd been able to get me back in that room. You saved me." Elizabeth reached out and carefully slipped her hand into his, rubbing her thumb over the back of his hand. "Thank you."

They crossed the quad in silence and she let him inside and led him to her room. He started to step away and she didn't let his hand go, causing him to wince. Glancing down, she grimaced. "We're going to take care of that," she said. "Come on." She pushed her door open and gestured for him to go inside.

Minutes later, Henry was sitting on the edge of the vanity in the community bathroom, while Elizabeth soaked his hands in cool water, washing the blood away from the cracks in his knuckles. She carefully dried them, applied ointment, and bandaged them. "Thank you," he murmured and kissed the top of her head.

"Truce?" she asked, her voice betraying any confidence she may have been trying to muster.

Henry nodded. "How about we meet in the library tomorrow? I have some reading I need to get done."

"After lunch? My table?" She grinned. "I know you know where that is."

Henry matched her expression. "I'm familiar with it." He stood and moved toward the door. "Good night Elizabeth." He exited, picked his coat up out of the hallway and headed out of the building thinking that was the most fruitful fist fight he'd ever had.


	8. Chapter 8

AN: Somehow I forgot it was Wednesday and I've got a Zoom meeting in 6 minutes. Oops! Hope you enjoy and thanks to all who have left such kind reviews.

Chapter 8

Elizabeth sat at her table in the library, her head bent in concentration. She tried and tried again to make her brain comprehend what she was reading, but her pounding headache and queasy stomach weren't helping at all. She sat back and rubbed her eyes, trying to get the imprint of blurry words out of her line of sight.

She sighed and glanced at her watch. It was 12:30 and she'd been at the library for over an hour. Elizabeth shook her head, wondering how she could be so back and forth on Henry, She was anxiously hoping that he would show up soon. Last night had been a turning point, and while she didn't think she was on board with starting a relationship with him right away, she was definitely looking forward to his friendship and seeing where that might take them. But she realized, at this time the day before, she had been plotting her outfit for the party, one that would turn his head, so that she could blow him off and hurt his feelings like he'd hurt hers.

Her head dropped. That was not who she was, or at least it wasn't who she was raised to be. Her parents always encouraged both of their children to be kind, to look out for the underdog, and treat people the way you would want to be treated. A shaky breath fell from her lips. She had been so hung up in making Henry pay for how he'd hurt her, she failed to see what kind of person she'd become.

She checked her watch. It was getting close to one. Maybe Henry was giving her a taste of her own medicine. Maybe he was waiting for her to let her guard down. Maybe he was going to stand her up. All of the maybes consumed her and Elizabeth shook her head violently and ran her fingers through her ponytail, further pulling it loose. The tension within her wound tighter and tighter until she felt like she was going to snap.

That morning, Henry rolled over and groaned. He felt like he'd been hit by a truck. His jaw ached and his shoulders and ribs were stiff and sore. Then there was the fact that he could barely move his fingers. Even though he was achy and was nursing a mild hangover, he smiled widely. He had a library date with Elizabeth. She had called a truce. For the first time in years, there was a feeling of hope that filled him.

Pulling himself from bed, he staggered to the shower. Henry took a long, hot shower, loosening his muscles. Getting out, he studied himself after wiping the condensation off the mirror. His jaw was bruised, but he didn't think it was terribly noticeable, at least not yet.

After pulling on a pair or jeans and a t-shirt, he made a sandwich and packed a few books in his backpack. He smiled again. Elizabeth had agreed to meet him. He released a slow breath. He was so thankful he was in the right place at the right time. He shuddered to think what might have happened if he hadn't been there to protect her. A warmth bloomed throughout his body. He always wanted to protect Elizabeth.

Making his way into the library, he headed directly to the third floor. Rounding the corner, his smile faded when he saw Elizabeth. Her expression left him bewildered. She looked pained. The second she saw him, tears fell and she covered her mouth in an attempt to hold back a sob.

Henry was immediately by her side. He tugged her out of the chair and wrapped her in a hug. "What's going on?"

"I'm sorry," she choked out, burying her face in his neck.

He held her for a minute longer before pushing her back so he could see her. "I don't understand. Sorry for what?"

She tried to calm down, breathing slowly, working through the shudders of breath. Finally, she pulled a tissue from her backpack and dried her eyes. "I'm a terrible person. Last night. I wanted to hurt you, and you still saved me. It's just one more reason I don't deserve to be loved."

Henry shook his head. He sat and swept his hand toward her chair. She joined him and they sat knee to knee. Henry placed his hands, palms up on her thighs. Elizabeth studied him for a moment before she placed her hands in his. He spoke softly. "We've both done some hurtful things to each other. How about we forget that and start over? A new chance for both of us." He looked at her, silently pleading for her to agree.

"I guess, but I don't understand. You said you left, but why did you come back?" she asked.

"I was mad and hurt, but the farther I got from the party, I got to thinking about Troy and the things I'd heard about him. And…" Herry trailed off for a moment.

"And what?"

"And even if you hated me, I couldn't let him hurt you like that. I-I just couldn't. I still love you."

The warmth started at her the ends of her body and rolled in waves from her head and feet meeting in her core, crashing together in an undeniable pulsing. She leaned in closer, reaching up and resting her fingers on the nape of Henry's neck, pulling him closer. Their lips were so close to touching. She could feel his breath dampening her lower lip, and then he raised his hand and grasped her wrist, causing her to suck in a sharp breath and pull back.

Henry's gaze was unflinching as he held her eyes, easing up the sleeve of her sweatshirt. Only when her skin was exposed, did he break eye contact and look at her wrist. "Is that from?" he started.

Elizabeth quickly pulled her arm away and tugged the sleeve back down, hiding the purplish blue bruises on her wrist and forearm. Henry carefully took her other arm and pushed the sleeve up. The bruising was similar. When he looked at her, Elizabeth could see the pain. "Is it? From last night?"

She nodded just enough. Henry blew out a frustrated breath. "Damn that son of a bitch. I almost felt bad for hitting him. Now I wish I hadn't stopped."

"Henry, you did stop him. It could've been so much worse," shtw murmured.

"But it shouldn't have ever happened," he said and Elizabeth nodded, conceding the point.

"Of course, if I'd been thinking clearly, I wouldn't have even been in that position."

"It shouldn't matter what position you were in-no man should ever-" Henry raked his hand through his hair. "How about we stop talking about him? How about we think about us?" Henry looked her in the eye, and that feeling he'd had back in her high school dorm room flooded his memory. Those eyes. Except now, there was something else he saw that hadn't been present before-desire. A knot immediately formed in his stomach and he shoved the chair back and stood, moving away.

A startled Elizabeth also stood, looking both stricken and panicked. "What did I do?"

"It's not you. It's-it's-I don't even know how to describe it." He moved toward the window and leaned against the sill, his arms folded across his chest. She followed, but stopped a pace away. He continued. "This feeling I have right now. It's just like it was back then, but I don't want to make the same mistakes." He reached out and caught her fingers, staring at where they were joined.

"I spent a lot of time trying to forget you, and most of the time that manifested itself physically." He took a deep breath. "We've had such a rocky start, and I have such deep feelings for you. I just don't want to mess it up. I want us to have more than a surface infatuation. I don't just want to fuck you. I want this to be real."

Elizabeth listened to Henry's words and thought about her experiences. In the time since her parents died, she had longed for deep connection to someone, to feel like she belonged. Looking up, she saw how he looked at her. She felt like she could see into his soul and her breath was taken away. He loved her. She swallowed the lump in her throat. "You're right. We'll take our time," she whispered, rubbing her thumb over the back of his hand carefully. "That's what we'll do."

November 4, 1986

The following Tuesday, Henry and Elizabeth were lounging in chairs opposite each other in the library. Elizabeth's history reading assignment was beyond boring and it was to the point that even taking notes wasn't helping. She needed a break. Sitting up straight, she stretched and groaned as her body resisted the change in position.

"You alright?" Henry asked, a small smile sneaking up on the corners of his mouth. As she stretched her arms over her head, her shirt rose up, showing her midriff. Henry couldn't help but think of how smooth her skin would feel under his touch. Blinking that thought away, he grinned when she dropped her arms, slumping back into the chair.

"Just tired of reading about Prussia. I know I should care, but I don't. This text is so dry." She reached forward, dumping it on the table. Her eyes met his and he chuckled.

"Favorite season?" he asked. This game had started as a get to know you, but quickly morphed into something they did when they were tired of studying. The afternoon before had seen one hour of studying and three hours of "getting to know each other."

"There are things I love about every season, but I like fall the best." She spoke in a way that made Henry look at her with interest, prodding her to continue. "The leaves are beautiful," she replied. When he raised his eyebrow at her, she offered, "And I like apple cider? How about you?"

He cocked his head slightly to the side, "We'll talk about it more some other time. As for me, I like spring. Everything is fresh and new and green. It refreshes the soul after the long bleak winter.."

"That's a nice way to look at it. I don't like spring. It just reminds me of bad times. So, my turn. What's your favorite Christmas memory?" she asked.

He smiled, but it was laced with sadness. "My favorite, not because it was the best, but because it's the freshest, was the last Christmas before Mom died. I got back from boarding school before noon, and Dad was at work and the other kids were still at their school, so it was just Mom and I. She was baking sugar cookies. Even though I'm not a great baker, I helped her roll the cookies out and we iced all the different cookies all afternoon. With four kids, we seldom got alone time with Mom, and that was actually the last time it was just the two of us. We talked and laughed. It wasn't about anything important, but it was special." Henry looked away,his emotions threatening to get away from him.

Elizabeth reached out and laced her fingers in his. "I'm glad you had that time with her, and that you recognized how special it was when you were in the moment." Squeezing his hand, she continued, "I wish I had taken the time I had with my parents more seriously. I guess I thought I'd have forever."

Sitting in silence for a bit, Elizabeth glanced down at her watch. "Crap! Henry, I forgot. It's Election Day. I need to vote."

"Oh yeah, the day has gotten away from me. I do too. Want to go together?"

"That's a date for the books. Voting. We aren't nerds or anything," she giggled.

Henry shoved his books in his pack and waited for Elizabeth to do the same. Tugging their heavy coats on, they headed out of the library, ready to walk several blocks to the nearest polling station.

"So what about you?" Henry asked. Elizabeth scrunched her nose. "Your favorite Christmas memory?" he prompted

"Oh. Um, probably the year I got Brandy." Henry watched her curiously. "I was ten years old and I'd asked for a horse for four years and I actually never thought I'd get one. It became something that I asked for every year, almost as a joke. So Will and I came downstairs Christmas morning and there were hardly any presents, and I realize now that it was greedy, but at the time we were kind of confused and Will was downright mad. We opened our couple of gifts and it was new sweaters and socks or something like that and then Dad told us that he had one more gift but we would have to share. Will was mad because he hated sharing anything with me, but Dad just got up and put on his coat, not saying a word and walked out of the house. We waited and nothing happened. Finally Mom said, 'Are you two going to go and find him?' We quickly put our coats and boots on and made our way out to the barn just as he was walking Brandy out into the yard." Henry watched as her eyes lit up at the memory. "We were so excited. That day we took a long ride as a family and Will and I even took turns riding Brandy and we didn't fight or anything. I'm sure my parents thought that was a Christmas miracle."

Elizabeth's smile faded. "I loved that horse so much."

"Do you still have her?" Henry asked.

"No. She's probably died of old age by now, but Joan sold all of the horses after Will and I went to boarding school." She hung her head. "That was a big pill to swallow when I went home that first summer, but Joan was right. It was for the best. We weren't around to care for them and it's expensive to have someone else board them."

Henry put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her into a side hug. "I promise, one day you'll have horses again. I'll make sure of it." Reaching up she squeezed his hand, and they walked up the steps of the polling station.

December 1986

It was the last day of finals and Elizabeth stood outside of Henry's apartment, knocking on the door. She sighed. Finally giving up, she leaned against the wall, sliding down it until her knees were against her chest. Resting her head there, she tried to figure out exactly what had happened.

They had been walking back from the student Union, playing their usual question and answer game. Henry had asked her about extended family and she told him about her cousins who were her best friends in school. That prompted her next question, which seemed innocuous enough.

"Who was your best friend growing up?" she asked. The look on Henry's face instantly turned Elizabeth's stomach. He looked stricken. "What? What's wrong?"

"Nothing. It's nothing." But it was something, because he immediately pulled his hand away from hers and shoved it in his pocket. He picked up the pace, causing Elizabeth to have to nearly chase after him.

"Henry, stop," she called, but he didn't. He couldn't. He headed straight up the steps and into the apartment. As he unlocked the door and turned the knob, he heard Elizabeth coming up the steps behind him. Henry slid into his apartment, shutting and locking the door behind him.

She knocked on the door for a solid five minutes. Henry could hear it even though he was already in the bedroom, sobs erupting uncontrollably.

His best friend was Tommy Bennett. They had been friends since kindergarten and Henry was there the day Tommy fell through the ice, while skating, and died. He grieved his friend's death and spent hours talking and praying with his mother, and eventually, things got better.

Then when Pamela died, all of the grief resurfaced, but there had been no one to help him through it and Henry tucked that hurt away and had not thought about Tommy since those first few months after his mother's passing. Elizabeth's question had caught him off guard and it felt like ripping the bandage from a wound that was nowhere near healed. He felt like his soul was gaping open.

The knocking stopped and Henry buried his head in his pillow. He was unsure why he reacted the way he did, and worse yet, how Elizabeth would perceive his behavior. She sometimes seemed to walk on eggshells around him anyway, fearful that she would do something to make him go away. He'd tried to tell her that it wouldn't happen again, but now here he was, running away and shutting her out.

His shame and guilt overshadowed his embarrassment of being so emotional about Tommy and he finally pulled himself out of bed, headed to find Elizabeth. To his shock, he didn't need to go far, tripping over her as he walked out of his door.

"What are you doing?" he asked, crouching down next to her.

"I'm not letting you run away," she murmured. He quickly pulled her to a stand and embraced her.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, burying his face in the crook of her neck.

"I just don't understand," she mumbled, her face pressed against the top of his head.

Henry released her and held the door open so she could enter and gestured toward the couch. Shedding her coat and backpack, she sat down. He brought them a couple sodas and sat down, turning so he could see her.

Turning to face Henry, Elizabeth tucked the can between the couch cushions and reached out, placing her hand on his leg. "Are you okay?"

Henry sighed, "I shouldn't have reacted that way. I just-I wasn't expecting-it caught me off guard." Resting his hand on top of Elizabeth's, he squeezed it. "Thank you for not leaving."

"I don't want to be anywhere else."

Taking a deep breath, Henry stared at their hands. "Tommy Bennett was my best friend. He died when I was 12, and I was there. I watched my best friend die." Elizabeth immediately shifted herself, pushing up on her knees to wrap Henry in a tight hug.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered in his ear. In her simple act of kindness, Henry broke down, telling her all about the day several of the boys went ice skating and Tommy fell through the ice-how no one knew where to get help and no one could get close enough to help him out of the water and then how they all watched him slip beneath the surface. Elizabeth wiped the tears from Henry's face as he shared the aftermath as those that blamed the boys argued with those that wanted to show compassion and offer forgiveness. He spoke of how his mother prayed with him when he was able and over him when he couldn't find the words to speak to God.

"That's the reason I went to boarding school. Just the thought of having to be with all of those people, day in and day out who knew what I had done-or what I didn't do." Henry paused to look at Elizabeth. "I just needed to get away."

Elizabeth curled up next to Henry, with her head on his shoulder. "And I desperately wanted to connect with those left behind after my parents died, and it seemed like they didn't want me. I thought they blamed me." She looked up at Henry. "That's why I clung to you. You accepted me and offered me something-no, someone-I could connect with. But then…" she trailed off, not wanting to rehash it yet again.

"I wish I'd been better equipped to handle that situation. I'm sorry I hurt you, so very sorry. I just didn't know how to deal with my feelings for you."

"You did hurt me, but you were right. I wasn't ready. If it had happened, I would've always been beholden to you for saving me. At some point, I probably would've ended up resenting you."

"Which is so much worse than outright hating me," Henry mumbled.

"Well, at least that only lasted a few years." She tipped her head back and shot him a wide grin, then she sobered.

"People used to tell me that everything happens for a reason and I wanted to punch them, but now, looking at what's happened with us, maybe I'm warming up to the idea." Elizabeth snuggled back into Henry's side.

"How so?" he asked.

She fiddled with the hem of her shirt, focusing on that instead of sanitizing the words she was about to say. "Well, you came to Virginia Prep because of Tommy and I ended up there because my parents died. If those things hadn't happened, our paths probably would never have crossed. Maybe that's the good that will come of it."

"Fate?" he offered.

"Perhaps."


	9. Chapter 9

AN: Well folks, we've come to the last chapter. I hope you've enjoyed the ride. Let me know what you think.

AN2: Nonnie88-Guess what? I used Herbert appropriately! LMAO

Chapter 9

January 1987

Henry rapped on Elizabeth's dorm room door. As she opened the door, Henry started in without really looking at her, "I thought we'd hit up that bowling thing toni-Wait, are you feeling okay?" Elizabeth stood in front of him wearing a dingy cropped t-shirt and plaid cotton pajama pants. Her hair was up, but flyaways stuck out haphazardly and dark circles hung deep beneath her eyes.

"I think I'm going to skip tonight, if it's okay with you." Elizabeth spoke softly, pinching the bridge of her nose, her other arm hanging limply by her side.

Henry stepped inside Elizabeth's room, pushing past her, giving the door a shove. He dropped his coat on the chair. "If you're sick, I can run to the store and get some medicine." He held the back of his hand to her head. "You're burning up."

Elizabeth shook her head adamantly. "I don't have a fever Henry. You've been outside and it's twenty degrees out there. I'm not hot, you're freezing." She sighed. "I'm just tired. I haven't been sleeping well."

"Is everything going alright with your classes? They just started. Surely you can't be stressed out yet, and you know you're going to do well." Henry prattled on his concerns for her and it should have been endearing, but instead, it grated on her already frazzled nerves.

"Henry. I'm fine. I'm tired. Just go. We can do something together this weekend." She cringed inwardly at that. Spending more time with Henry wasn't going to help her situation, but the thought of not spending time with him was equally unappealing. She pondered just spilling her guts right then, but she wanted him to take the lead.

"Oh. Okay," Henry's eyes dropped and he looked like a puppy that just took a newspaper to his nose for peeing on the floor. He quickly bent down and grabbed his coat and shuffled around her toward the door.

Elizabeth closed her eyes and exhaled slowly. "Henry, don't be like that. Come on. I didn't mean it like that."

He looked up and she could see the hurt in his eyes. "It's fine. Sleep well Elizabeth. You can call me later this week if you want." He opened the door and stepped out into the hall.

She groaned. She hadn't wanted to make a big deal out of this and now it was about to be a big deal. She followed him out. "Ok, fine. How long is long enough Henry?"

He spun on his heel and faced her. "Long enough for what?" He screwed his face up in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"You said we'd take it slow. We've seen each other almost every day since Halloween. How much slower can we go?" Elizabeth's cheeks flushed red and she crossed her arms.

Henry looked at her like she was speaking some sort of language he didn't understand. His eyes wrinkled at the corners as he studied her, his expression perplexed.

"Damnit Henry. Do I need to draw you a picture?" Elizabeth huffed, then it all came out in a rush. "I haven't been able to sleep well for weeks because every time I close my eyes, you are there, consuming me. I wake up feeling like I haven't slept at all. I'm breathless and sweaty and I feel like I've run a marathon." She made eye contact. "How long is long enough, Henry?"

She watched the recognition roll over his face, and the corners of his mouth turned up into a boyish grin. "Really?" he asked. "You like me like that?" With each second that passed, his smile grew until his whole face was aglow.

"Yeah, I like you like that. A lot. I thought you knew that." She drew her arms closer around her and offered him a smile. "And I hope that you still like me like that."

He trekked the four paces back to her and offered her his hand, which she took. He walked them back through her doorway and she closed it behind her. He slipped his coat back off and hung it over the chair. When he turned around, his expression was sober and a lump grew in the pit of her stomach. "Henry?" Her brows knitted together as she tried to decide if he was suddenly going to tell her that he was satisfied with just being friends.

"I don't just like you like that. I love you Elizabeth Adams, and I have for a long time." Stepping in close, he wrapped his huge hands around her biceps and leaned in pressing his forehead to hers.

Blowing out a ragged breath, she murmured, "I'm not able to say it yet. That's okay, isn't it?"

"Just don't leave," he mumbled in response, edging closer. Her hands moved to his waist, inching around his back, pulling their bodies close. Noses touched, breathing the exhalations of the other. They stayed that way for the briefest of moments until Henry tilted his head ever so slightly and their top lips brushed against each other. When he took her top lip between his and sucked it gently, he felt her relax into him.

Pulling back, he watched her. Her eyes still closed waiting for him to return. After a few seconds passed, she blinked her eyes open and studied him. "That wasn't quite as life altering as I hoped it would be."

He grinned, "Babe, you're tired and you're going to go to bed. If I'd kissed you like I want to kiss you, I guarantee you wouldn't be wanting to sleep."

"That's bold," she said, releasing him.

He raised his brow and smiled. "I don't think so." He pecked her on the lips. "But seriously, you look exhausted. Let's get you to bed."

Elizabeth went to brush her teeth and use the bathroom and when she returned, Henry was under the covers. "Henry. It's 7 pm. You aren't tired at all."

"It's fine. I'll watch over you until I get tired." Suddenly he looked unsure. "That is, unless you don't want me here."

She offered him a shy smile. "I do. Really. I'm just nervous."

"It's just sleep. Come here." Elizabeth crawled in next to Henry and he scooted closer, pressing his chest to her back and tucked the blanket around her before resting his arm across her stomach.

"This is nice," she mumbled and, not even a minute later, she was asleep. Henry spent the next few hours feeling the steady rhythm of her heart, his hand laying where she had it clutched to her chest. He rested his head against hers and breathed in the faint remnants of her vanilla and peach scented shampoo, and a hint of something else that was uniquely her. It settled him in an unexpected way. He nestled in against Elizabeth and closed his eyes.

Early morning light filtered in around the vertical slats that were being gently blown by the warm air from the radiator. Elizabeth roused to wakefulness, but remained unmoving, wondering why she was so hot, and her cheek sweaty. Henry breathed in deeply and shifted his arm a bit and she remembered the previous evening. She was draped across Henry and she couldn't remember the last time she'd slept so soundly.

Tipping her head back, she looked up to see him watching her. "Good morning beautiful," he murmured, kissing her forehead. "Do you feel better?"

She blushed at the compliment. "So much better. Thank you for staying." She squirmed to pull her arm free and scooted up so she was eye level with Henry. "Thank you," she whispered, pressing her lips to his. Her kiss was soft and loving, and made Henry smile into it. It was nice, but that wasn't what he had in mind.

In one movement, he shifted back against the wall and rolled her onto her back. He leaned over her, propped on one elbow. "Hen-ry," she squeaked, surprised by the sudden movement.

"Since you're well rested-" he stopped and wiggled his eyebrows at Elizabeth, causing her to giggle, but when she looked at him, she quieted instantly. The intensity of his gaze sent her senses on high alert.

Goosebumps erupted across her body. She swallowed thickly, suddenly short of breath and her tongue darted out, wetting her lips in anticipation of what may come next. His fingers trailed lightly against her cheek, brushing the loose hair away from her face and he threaded them into her hair, cradling her head in his hand.

Everything seemed to be in slow motion-everything except Elizabeth's heartbeat. It pounded against her sternum with such ferocity that she thought it may break out.

Henry lowered his head and as his lips touched hers, his fingers, which had been kneading the hem of her t-shirt, slipped beneath, around her back, pulling her from the bed, flush to his body, his hand burning against her back.

Instinctively, she wrapped her arm around him. He pulled away for just an instant, and before she could even question it, his lips were back on hers, firm and commanding. When he traced the seam of her lips with his tongue, they parted without hesitation. He plundered her mouth, stealing her breath, sending waves of anticipation across her body. Every muscle was coiled, ready to snap and when Henry's hand migrated down her back, gripping her ass and pulling her into his groin. When she felt him pressed against her, she released a carnal moan, a sound she was unaware she could make.

Henry released her, gently laying her back on the bed, and leaned forward, pecking her on the cheek. "I've been waiting a long time to do that."

Her eyes opened as she slowly regained control of her body. "Wow," she whispered. "That was-" she stopped, still trying to put coherent thoughts together.

"Life altering?" Henry offered as he settled in next to her.

"Yeah, that," she murmured, cuddling up to him, tracing nonsensical patterns on his shoulder.

Henry chuckled lightly and pressed a chaste kiss to her temple. "Come on. I'm starving. Let's get some breakfast.

March 1987

Elizabeth watched as Henry paddled out past the smallest waves and waited to catch a bigger one. Their spring break mini vacation had been impromptu, but much needed. They could only afford to spend two nights at the beach, but their room was nice and she spent a fair amount of time with a book and Henry had learned to surf. She had mentioned scuba diving, but he put a quick stop to that idea, so she was glad he was having fun surfing. Now, they were packed up, staying on the beach as long as possible before making the four hour journey back to Charlottesville.

He rode the wave in and she smiled at him. Henry waved and headed back out. Her thoughts immediately went to all of the things he could teach their kids and what a great father he would be.

The uneasiness coursed through her veins. Thoughts of the two of them in the future came all of the time now. At first she'd dismissed the thought of them taking a trip together, thinking it would never happen. Then she discounted her plans for what they might look like while he was on active duty for the Marines, which had been discussed ad nauseum during the drive out.

Now she was having his children. Elizabeth clenched her jaw. She didn't think she was ready for this. But, at the same time, wasn't it _this_ that she had been seeking the whole time? She closed her eyes, fighting the emotion of the memories.

Those first few weeks after she arrived at Virginia Prep, hadn't she cried every night begging for someone to connect with? Wasn't she devastated when she lost the fledgling connection she had to Henry?

Didn't she seek out a dozen or more guys trying to make that happen before finally giving up altogether?

Now, she had what she'd wanted for so long and she was scared to tell him, to make the commitment real. She knew he loved her. He told her frequently, but even if he didn't, she could see it in every action he took.

"I need to tell him," she said murmured, her eyes closed.

"Tell me what, babe?" Elizabeth jumped and she looked up to see Henry standing next to her, towel drying his hair.

She shook her head, trying to make the thoughts recede. "Nothing. It's nothing." But the knots in her stomach were not listening to her words.

Henry surveyed her. Elizabeth's brow was pinched, her lips pursed and her eyes clouded. Whatever it was clearly wasn't "nothing," but he decided not to pursue the line of questioning. He crouched down beside her. "Want to take one last walk before we go?" he asked.

Elizabeth didn't answer, but pushed herself up, brushed the sand from the back of her legs and held out her hand. He took it and they walked together in silence. They walked to the water's edge, staring at their feet, watching the waves roll over them. The grains of sand whooshed around their toes, pulled into the ocean only to be rushed back in seconds later.

Henry nudged Elizabeth and pointed at the horizon where the ocean met the line of night. It was beautiful, but it seemed to be sad as well. That line represented the place that her hopes and dreams tipped into despair. She seemed to ride the cusp of that so often. She was hopeful, but knew how easily it could all fall apart. She had regrets about not taking advantage of the opportunity she had with her parents to really love in the moment. It struck her that she was walking that same path with Henry. By being afraid of sharing her true feelings, she was denying them both that opportunity to fully love each other.

Elizabeth stopped and continued to stare out over the ocean. She felt Henry slide in behind her. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. "You okay?" he murmured.

She shook her head. "I'm not. I'm not living like I need to live." Worry clouded Henry's features, but he said nothing. She pushed on. "I didn't recognize how fragile life could be and my parents were ripped away before I understood , before I could tell them how important they were. And now I'm doing it again."

Henry tried to figure out where Elizabeth was going with her line of thinking. There was a part of him that was afraid that one day she would withdraw and he'd lose her. He swallowed and fought every instinct he had to argue in an attempt to convince her whatever she was planning to say wasn't necessary. He held her against him and waited.

Bringing the hand that she was holding to her lips, she kissed it and Henry felt her tears. He wanted to ask, but she spun around in his arms, grabbed his head and pulled him down so their lips connected and she kissed him fiercely.

Releasing her grip on him, she let her hands brush down his arms grasping his hands. Taking a deep breath, Elizabeth spoke before she lost her nerve. "I love you Henry McCord. I love you so much it hurts sometimes and I want to live my life with you and have kids with you and grow old with you, and everything in between. And I will do my best to always make sure you know that because I never want to live with that regret again."

He hugged her tightly and held her for a long time, thanking God for bringing them back together He finally let her go, murmuring, "Let's go home."

April 2033 (note the time jump)

"McCord family. Let's go!" Elizabeth yelled up the stairs, as she made her way out the back door. Standing on the back deck, she watched Jason and Piper pushing the two youngest grandchildren, their four year old son, Benjamin, and Alison's son, Graham, who was 3. Stevie and Alison had two of the other kids, walking them up from the horse barn. "Hey guys?" she called out. "It's time to go." Piper nodded and Jason moved to help Graham off the swing.

Ten minutes later, the McCord clan was climbing into the SUVs, under Secret Service's watchful eye. Elizabeth stood on the porch watching her babies tend to their own babies, not that any of them were babies anymore, at least not currently. Stevie called out, "Ali, do you have Michael? I've got Landon, Graham and Lilliana.

"I've got him, Peter, Benny, and Becca. Wait! Jason! How come we have all of the kids?"

Jason shot them both a wide grin and shrugged. Piper called out, "I've got babies on board." She rubbed her stomach. "Does that count?"

"Not really. Jase, if you aren't taking the kids, you get the parentals." She pointed at Elizabeth and Henry standing on the porch. "And I bet Mom will practice her speech the whole way there." Stevie winked at Jason. "Good luck with that." She stepped into the SUV and let the SS agent close the door.

Ali called back, "Thanks for taking one for Team McCord."

"They love each other. I know they do," Henry said.

"Deeply. And I love you." Elizabeth faced Henry. "I'm so glad I get to walk with you on this journey."

He stepped closer and kissed her lightly. "We've got to go dedicate some stuff, Madam President."

Elizabeth held up her notes. "And I have a speech to practice."

Jason slumped in the seat as Elizabeth started her speech for the third time. "Really Mom? You've been over that thing no less than two hundred times since we got to town."

She looked over her shoulder at the men in the back seat and grinned. "Oh I know it. I'm just tormenting you." Jason groaned, and Elizabeth laughed. "You doing alright, Piper?"

"I'm fine . Thank you."

Elizabeth eyed her daughter-in-law. "I've known you for fifteen years, Piper. You can call me Elizabeth."

Piper gave her a shy smile. "Force of habit." Elizabeth reached out and patted her leg. "Habits are hard to break."

Jason sat up and tapped his mother on the shoulder. "How's the library coming?" He pointed out the window at the construction site. The main structure looked complete, but the chain link fence and warning placards indicated it was not ready to open..

"I haven't checked in for a couple weeks. The last I knew, Blake was working with the National Archives and construction was on schedule. It will probably sometime next summer." She replied, somewhat disinterested. "You know, Mike pushed for this. I would've been fine without one, but apparently every President since Herbert Hoover has had a library." She shrugged. "I'm much more excited about what we're doing today." Henry reached over the seat and squeezed her shoulder. Elizabeth, in turn, reached up and patted his hand.

The SUV caravan slowed and turned into the destination. When they had stopped, the SS agent opened the door and Elizabeth got out. She was met by a tall, slender man. "Madam President. Welcome to Virginia Preparatory Academy. We're so glad to have you today."

"Dr. Frandsen. It's a pleasure." She looked around and took the campus in. Instinctively, she reached behind her and Henry laced their fingers together. "Let's go check out the space, shall we?"

The school head master led them around the corner to the large space between two recently renovated buildings. "Madam President, I hope you're pleased with how the garden turned out. We're very proud of it. I think we got the placement of the seating correct."

"It's perfect. Thank you. Dr. Frandsen, would you mind giving us a moment? Thank you."

The man retreated and Elizabeth leaned into Henry. "What do you think?"

He smirked, "I think when you pay a couple million to renovate two dorms, you should request more than a memorial bench."

"It's not just the bench, it's the whole garden. It's not about the recognition anyway, and you know it," she scoffed. "Besides, we got a scholarship foundation as well."

"That we're also funding," Henry commented.

She rolled her eyes when he smirked. "So not the point." She tugged him forward. "Come sit with me."

They moved to the bench and as they sat, Elizabeth turned and ran her fingers over the plaque attached to the marble. _In memory of Benjamin and Suzanne Adams._

"Do you think they would like it?" She looked at the space around them. "It is beautiful."

"They would love it, because you had a part in it." Henry leaned in and pressed his forehead to hers. "I made the best decision of my life right here in this spot." Elizabeth leaned back, looking at him blankly. "That first day I talked to you-you were leaving and I asked you what your mom's favorite flower was. It became my connection to you in those early days. If I'd kept quiet and not asked, you wouldn't have given me the time of day."

"Maybe it _was _fate." She smiled and leaned back in, sharing a long moment. Then she slapped his knee. "Alright I've got a speech to give."

Henry stood and took her hand and they walked around the corner to where a small crowd had gathered. Dr. Frandsen was introducing her. Elizabeth was only vaguely aware of what he was saying, but there was applause and all eyes were on her. Making her way up the stairs, she smiled.

"Thank you Dr. Frandsen for your kind words. Today has special significance for me. It was fifty years ago on this day that I arrived on Virginia Preparatory Academy's campus for the first time. The spring term was nearly complete and my brother and I had just been handed a traumatic blow. The death of our parents threw us into a tailspin, and while we dealt with our grief differently, Virginia Prep became our family, our support system, and our leg up to help us be successful in life. But, arguably the best thing in my life happened here, because, then Headmaster Jefferson Norton, took a chance on another student who had lost a parent much too soon. If he hadn't, I never would've met my husband on a garden bench just around the corner. So today, we are here to dedicate the newly redesigned Benjamin and Suzanne Adams Memorial Garden, named after my parents. I hope that the garden can serve as a place for students to get away and spend quiet, reflective time, maybe even thinking of their loved ones." The crowd applauded and Elizabeth patiently waited for them to stop.

"That brings me to my second announcement. As of a week ago, a new scholarship fund was established at Virginia Prep. The Pamela McCord Memorial Scholarship will provide full tuition to any current student that loses a parent and still desires to attend, but no longer has the financial means. Just because a child has been dealt the crushing blow of losing a parent does not mean that they should have to give up the education they desire. Henry and I hope that these small contributions will help give back to an institution that gave so much to us. Thank you."

Robust applause rang out and Elizabeth caught Headmaster Frandsen approaching. "Now, I hear there are going to be tours of the garden and newly renovated dorms, so please partake of all of that. I'll be in the cake line."

Frandsen approached Elizabeth, who had joined Henry, thanking them both profusely, before scuttling off to mingle with other people.

Minutes later, Elizabeth and Henry were seated with their cake and both of them had a grandchild on their lap and another lingering close by. Their children and spouses were chatting with others and Elizabeth sighed. Henry turned to face her, the question in his expression. "It's weird. I couldn't possibly imagine where life would take me when I arrived here fifty years ago. I was so distraught. I just couldn't see past that, and now, there is so much good in my life." Henry reached over and squeezed her leg. "And I have to say the best thing about this post Presidential gig is that I'm first in every reception line. That's an unexpected bonus." She grinned and Henry chuckled.

Later, the crowds had broken up and the kids were starting to gather things to leave. Henry took Elizabeth by the hand and leaned in close. "I want to show you something," he whispered.

As he started walking her across the grassy yard toward the hedges, Elizabeth turned to look at him. "Henry, what did you do?"

"Just a little something," he said, giving her a devilish grin. Leading her to the small opening in the hedges, she stepped through like she had nearly fifty years prior. The space was covered in violets and at the far end was a stone bench . As they approached, she saw the envelope held down by a rock.

"You are a sentimental fool Henry McCord," she laughed. "But it's beautiful." Elizabeth stopped and took in the scene around her. "I don't know that you could ever really comprehend how much this meant to me back then. It gave me hope when I had none, a moment's peace when there was turmoil all around, and a glimpse of the love you would one day pour into me, even though I didn't understand what that was." Taking a deep breath, she pushed the tears back that threatened to fall. She took the envelope and ran her thumb over the carefully written block letters _ELIZABETH_. Running her finger under the flap, she opened it and removed the letter.

Four words were written across the paper and she smiled.

_It was definitely fate._


End file.
